#reader is high

[necrobunni]

me, very high, just realized i unconsciously twerk when i’m baked. not like full ass clap or anything. just lil movements. lil grind. like my ass has a rhythm all its own.

and now I’m imagining being high with Simon Riley.

sitting on his lap, smoking, watching TV. chillin’. heavy thighs across his, ass comfortably posted. all chill. he's warm. a perfect human furnace

and outta nowhere you just start throwin’ it back. not even on purpose. just vibin'. slow lil grind. just a rhythm in your hips and you're too high to notice.

and Simon?? man’s stiff. quiet. doesn’t say shit. probably thinks you're just malfunctioning.

he's built like a fucking tank, and you can still feel him stiffen under you.

but you keep doing it. no awareness. you don't clock it, just baked and grinding.

and he’s under you, getting harder and harder, saying nothing not even daring to breathe. dying inside.

quiet. respectful. Suffering.

he doesn’t shift. doesn’t move you. just sits there letting you grind real gentle, real slow, like it’s nothing.

like it’s not driving him insane.

and then you shift a little more. sink down just a touch in his lap.

and you hear it.

a low. deep. barely there grunt:

"Fuckin’ hell..."

you pause. glance back.

"...you alright?"

his jaw’s tight. hands gripping your thighs just a little harder now. he clears his throat, looks away from you, and mutters something low that sounds like a prayer or a threat, hard to tell.

And you.

you just blink. Shrug. go back to watching tv like nothing happened, meanwhile he’s underneath you, chest rising hard, pupils blown, fists clenched just trying not to disrupt you.

Trying to be good.

he’s this close to snapping. but he won’t. not yet.

not while you're sittin’ pretty, high as hell, still lightly bouncin’.

unaware of driving a grown man to the edge of divinity.

pt 2.

[huunni]

simon eating you out while you blow smoke in his face.

smut. ⤵

whether you've had the worst or best day ever, simon is ready with a fat roll with ur name on it. perfer pens/carts? great, he just got u a new pink one that'll take you to the moon and back. more of a bong girl, he's gotchu. bowl neatly packed with no crumbs fallin out when u spark up.

while yall are passing back and forth, the weed does what it does.. fucks you up. not even ten minutes later, you're guiding simon's hand down to feel your pussy and she is..gushing. simon can't believe it either, asks you if you pissed yourself. fuck you, nigga..eat my pussy.

and of course, simon, like the good boy he is, does what he's told. lazily sucking on ur clit like its a pacifier with those fucking eyes looking up over the pudge of your stomach, a little red and reeeaaall low. he rubs his cock to the bed, groaning into you as he goes completely non-verbal. no dirty talk, no cussing, just simon eatin' your pussy like hes trying to take your soul. which he probably is, by the way.

nuttin' on simon's mouth feels ten times better when you're higher than heaven, ur weed discarded as you grip your sheets, throwing your head back witch a choked moan stuck in your throat as your entire body throbs.

[huunni]

under the influence

clark kent x black!fem!reader smut (minors dni)

🍯: huunni drops — uhh no commentary. very self indulgent. im high. i have an oral fixation. that's it thats the story

🐻 : bear in the hive — reader is high n clark is not so dubcon? uhhh oral (m receiving), lmk what i missed

clark leans back, spreading his legs open wider on the couch so you can settle between them, your mouth slack as you readjust on your knees. his abs clench over and over as you lower your head and flatten your tongue on his cock.

"oh my— slow down, baby. dont– hah! dont huuuurt yourself down there, okay? holy—" clark's fingers grip at the edge of the couch as he tries to maintain some level of composure. you were currently high, sucking his cock languidly because having something warm in your drooling mouth helped you ground yourself a bit. up and down like it's all you can do, your mouth subconsciously getting wetter and wetter the more you hold it open. clark didn't want you to at first, what with your head being up in the clouds, but you batted your pretty glossy eyes at him and he folded. like warm laundry.

"baby, you— not that far down— huugh.." clark moaned pathetically into the dim light of your living room, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat as you softly choked around him. his leg muscles tighten, and his chest heaves as his hands finally leave the edge of the couch, pushing you down a bit further until your nose is buried in his curly pubes. clark let out a groan, thrusting softly as his load shot back in your throat, his hands shaking as he finally came down, letting you go.

"sorry, baby. sorry, honey— gosh." but you don't hear him, swallowing his shot before wrapping your lips around his tip again, and before you know it, you're sucking him down all over again.

[necrobunni]

someone asked so pt. 2 to this post of being on Simon's lap high. i hope you like it im new to this. fyi Simon “Ghost” Riley x black plus size!reader (AFAB, implied fem anatomy)

you're still on his lap, a haze in your brain, and your body weight like a warm, heavy blanket over his thighs. you barely notice how hard his hands are now gripping your hips, or how his cock is straining against the fabric of his pants beneath you, thick and unforgiving.

you’re too high. too relaxed. the show on the screen has your attention, your lips slightly parted, skin buzzing from the mix of weed and Simon’s body heat.

your hips? still moving. lazy, sensual little rolls. unintentional, hypnotic. just your body finding its own rhythm.

and Simon? he’s fucking dying.

he hasn’t moved,doesn’t dare to. every muscle in his body is locked. you shift again, something slow and soft, and you feel it now. feel what you’ve been grinding on without realizing.

“Oh…” you murmur, the tiniest smirk twitching at your lips as the fog lifts just enough for you to register the pressure against your center.

Simon’s jaw ticks. he still won’t look at you.

you lean back slightly, your ass pressing down, your voice all soft and syrupy, “You hard right now?”

his nostrils flare. his head tips back against the couch.

“Been hard, sweetheart,” he grits out. “You’ve been fuckin’ grinding on me like that for ten minutes. Thought I was havin’ a religious experience.”

you let out a lazy little giggle, fingers trailing up his chest. “You could’ve said somethin’…”

“I was tryin’ to be good,” he mutters.

And then his hands move.

One wraps around your throat, not tight just there while the other drags down your body and dips beneath your waistband.

“Not tryin’ anymore.”

you gasp as thick fingers part you, feel you, and he groans low in his throat.

“Fuckin’ soaked…” he murmurs, almost in disbelief. “That why you kept moving, baby? Couldn’t help it?”

you hum, nodding lazily. “Didn’t even notice…”

he growls, actually growls, and in one smooth motion, he stands, lifting you with him like you weigh nothing, carrying you to the bedroom with your legs wrapped around his waist, his cock pressed against you hot and twitching between your thighs.

“You’re gonna notice now.”

he lays you out on the bed like you’re the finest thing he’s ever seen, kisses your thighs like he’s praying at the altar of your body, and when he finally pushes into you, slow and deep, thick enough to stretch, you both gasp.

“You keep bouncin’ on me like that,” he murmurs in your ear, “and I’m never lettin’ you off my lap again.”